Chapter 295

Chapter 295
Chapter 295

“There are limits to how foolish someone can be.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing.”

After being fully filled in by Kyle about the First Prince, Rickshel felt genuine shock. How could a person who had gone through an imperial upbringing turn out so completely helpless? And if that same First Prince had somehow managed to inherit the throne, what kind of dark destiny would have awaited the empire?

‘Terrifying.’

The Head of House surely understood this reality too, yet given his personality, how had he managed to endure it for so long? He must have calculated that the First Prince would prove easier to manage. A weak-willed emperor paired with an even more dim-witted prince would leave House Lepisent looking like a public nuisance, but since they held sway over the central nobility, he likely figured he could sweep them all away in one swift motion. Above all else… perhaps he already caught wind of the Second Prince’s true capabilities.

Though it felt a bit boastful to admit, Rickshel shared many traits with the Head of House, especially when it came to a ruthless efficiency for tying up loose ends. Someone even more uncompromising than Rickshel would never have permitted the First Prince to claim the throne.

“What are your plans for the First Prince once all is said and done?”

“Wouldn’t the most natural path involve exiling him and letting nature take its course?” the Second Prince replied as if the answer were obvious. “Having him quietly fade away… or rather, since he chose to dabble in forbidden curses, he deserves no mercy at all. Right, Priest?”

“Indeed. I share your view,” Licht, the priest who had been lingering quietly in the background like a shadow, nodded in agreement.

Ordinarily, a matter of this magnitude required the Archbishop’s personal presence, but specific circumstances meant Licht was attending as his proxy. Rickshel had been briefed on the reasons but chose to keep his counsel.

‘That priest still remains oblivious. Though, why would the Archbishop ever volunteer such a dark secret?’

“Curses can never be justified under any pretext. If even a trace of them turns up inside the Lepisent Mansion, the Temple’s Inquisitors will descend upon the place.”

“Did you hear that?”

“…That is certainly comforting,” the Second Prince replied a moment late to the priest’s declaration.

‘Cannot be justified, is that so?’

The Second Prince briefly recalled the voice of the person who had placed the initial curse upon his flesh, slowly closing his eyes before opening them again. To be fair, it wasn’t that he lacked the urge to challenge the priest’s assertion, but public duties and private grievances had to remain strictly separate. He could not afford to let anything cloud the core objective now.

‘Especially not for the sake of Lion Asteri.’

The road ahead for the one who had saved his life was already paved with thorns. Why bother scattering sharp gravel across it as well? That realization formed another key motivation behind Kyle’s absolute resolve to utterly dismantle House Lepisent.

“Now then, let us step inside.”

“Agreed.”

The three individuals crossed the threshold through the wide-open, lavishly ornate doorway. They strode past a magnificent garden that clearly reflected the Empress’s personal tastes, making their way directly to Marquis Lepisent’s private quarters where they uncovered a hidden space, sitting right where the First Prince had indicated it would be.

An oppressive aura hung thick in the air, carrying the heavy stench of raw iron and ominous foreboding. Even an ordinary traveler stumbling upon the room would immediately sense something was terribly wrong. Blood-stained altars, ritual daggers meant for casting hexes, and various instruments of dark magic rested neatly in rows. Unmistakable proof of demon invocation and curse crafting had been left out in plain sight.

“Why on earth didn’t they bother cleaning this mess up?”

“It is less a matter of choice and more that they simply couldn’t.”

The explanation followed that tampering with such an altar without a priest’s guidance invited unpredictable calamities. Even if hired mercenaries cleared it away, the residual backlash would inevitably hunt down whoever touched it.

“Demons are remarkably stubborn creatures, even the low-ranking ones.”

The only saving grace was the complete absence of any indicator pointing toward the summoning of a greater demon. Had one been called forth, the sheer density of the malevolent energy would have blocked them from stepping foot into the chamber entirely.

“Furthermore, they likely never imagined the First Prince would turn on them with such effortless betrayal.”

Rickshel, who had been nodding along with the priest’s assessment, offered his own perspective. From a logical standpoint, once the curse came to light, the First Prince was a doomed man anyway, meaning they must have viewed the altar as a desperate insurance policy. That a spineless opportunist like the First Prince would go to such lengths to preserve his own skin was something even they failed to anticipate.

Silence fell over the room following Rickshel’s deduction. The truth of it hung heavily between them. Given their own intelligence… or rather, it simply defied normal human reasoning.

“Regardless, now that we have secured concrete evidence, I shall take it upon myself to report this to the Archbishop.”

No matter how reclusive the Archbishop had become following a certain recent incident, an emergency of this scale demanded his personal appearance.

“Understood. I will relay the findings back to the Head of House as well.”

Just as they finished gathering the evidence with surprising ease and prepared to part ways to deliver their respective reports…

“Pardon me, Lord Rickshel.”

“Yes?”

“I heard that Lord Lion sustained injuries…”

“Indeed. He suffered considerable strain, both mentally and physically, due to recent events. However, broadcasting numerous casualties serves no strategic purpose, which is why the Head of House requested discretion, did he not?”

“That is correct. The Archbishop expressed the exact same sentiment.”

When Rickshel paused, fixing him with a look that asked if there was more on his mind, Licht hesitated before glancing around and speaking in a deeply cautious whisper.

“I am asking this not as an official representative of the Temple, but simply as a fellow human being…”

Licht paused again, struggling with his words, and finally blurted them out just as Rickshel was about to brush past him in mounting frustration.

“Has Lord Lion, by any chance, mentioned seeing or hearing things that ordinary people do not?”

“Excuse me?”

“Or perhaps, has something transpired around him that could genuinely be classified as a miracle?”

What kind of absurd line of questioning was this? Was this a new recruitment strategy for the faith? It sounded more like a fringe cult. Rickshel briefly wondered if Priest Licht had finally lost his grip on reality after being cooped up inside the grand estate for so long. As for his brother, well…

‘Seeing and hearing… he certainly does.’

There was the dragon soul answering to the name of Tiamatrak, alongside the presence of the Spirit King. Back at the Great Barrier, hadn’t his brother mentioned being able to perceive wandering souls as well?

‘Did the priest figure something out?’

Yet from a typical cleric’s viewpoint, realizing someone could perceive hidden supernatural entities would prompt demands for an immediate exorcism or a mandatory cleansing stay at the Sanctuary.

‘Better to play dumb.’

Licht served as the Archbishop’s closest confidant. While the Head of House and his brother currently seemed to have the Archbishop cornered, nobody could predict when that unpredictable madman might bite back. Moreover, Licht ultimately belonged to the Archbishop’s faction.

With the combined backing of House Asteri and the Magic Tower, they hardly lacked resources for his brother’s care, but one could never have too much insurance when it came to family health. Even so, opening up completely to a Temple priest remained far too risky at this stage.

Still—

“Is experiencing something like a miracle inherently a problem?”

Rickshel decided against shutting the conversation down entirely, though he kept his tone deliberately neutral to feign ignorance. The specific use of the word ‘miracle’ by the priest was what truly bothered him.

“The Temple naturally views it as an auspicious omen, nothing more. At least, the first time it happens.”

“And the second time, or the third? The more these miraculous events pile up, the more rigid the future becomes, narrowing every possible path down to a single predetermined track. Do you happen to understand what waits at the very end?” Licht offered a melancholy, bitter smile. “Inevitability. Orchestrated entirely by God.”

“That sounds deeply unsettling, especially when speaking of the primary heir to House Asteri, a lineage built on arcane mastery…”

“That is precisely why, should such phenomena manifest around him, you must bring him to me. I have the means to untangle it.”

For the first time in memory, Rickshel found himself momentarily speechless. He had initially suspected a subtle psychological maneuver or a trap designed to lure his brother into the Temple’s grasp.

“Why would you go to such lengths?”

Even as a mage, Rickshel understood basic theological laws. For instance, a priest deliberately defying the divine will invited immediate punishment through divine retribution.

“Ah… it is a matter of atonement. While I may not grasp every detail of the situation, the Archbishop appears to have committed a grave transgression.”

Licht had wrestled with his conscience for countless sleepless hours before reaching this conclusion. Even now, his hands trembled as if he were committing an unforgivable sacrilege.

Even so, the Archbishop remained Licht’s family—his father figure, his mentor, and his ultimate benefactor. Yet Lord Lion was also his friend.

‘I can only wonder how you will receive this.’

Regardless, this was his genuine conviction. And so, he chose to muster an extraordinary level of courage—the resolve to stand against a path supposedly ordained by God.

“…That is what he has to say. How should we respond, brother?”

“Pardon?”

Licht snapped back to reality, suddenly locking eyes with the young heir of Asteri. Come to think of it… Rickshel was wearing a small ornament tucked against his ear. It was neither a standard earring nor any other decorative trinket.

‘Oh, no.’

He had previously assumed it was merely a defensive talisman against curses. But in truth, it was a magical communication artifact. Which meant every single word of this exchange…

[Oh, do tell the priest that I appreciate his concern.]

“Yes, I will relay that, brother.”

“Wait, excuse me—”

“My brother asks me to pass along his thanks.”

“Ah…”

…Had been broadcasted directly to Lord Lion the entire time!

‘D-don’t tell me, was the excuse about him being injured also part of—?’

Under normal circumstances, someone as paranoid and guarded as that priest would never have bared his soul so easily. But he must have pieced together hints of the Archbishop’s scheming on his own, becoming so blinded by his own sense of moral duty that he failed to notice the trap.

‘Well, it turned out beneficial for my brother one way or another, so…’

Rickshel decided he had played his part well, even if he had to utter words he didn’t fully mean. Watching the burly priest’s face flare bright red, however, was a thoroughly entertaining spectacle.

“I will take my leave now.”

Rickshel offered a polite, casual nod and turned away. Simultaneously, the magical link clicked shut.

“Miracles, you say.”

Lion had been busy trying to bargain down a luxury-tier variant of ‘My Spitting Image’ from a bewildered magic tool merchant when the relay concluded, leading him to a sudden realization.

-What? Diapers?
-Still, isn’t that particular pattern pushing things a bit far?
-Lion, I’m starting to worry you inherited some deeply questionable aesthetic tastes from your family…
-Let’s just stick to the shoes instead.

Tiamatrak, who had been enthusiastically flaunting her ancient dragon expertise while pitching design ideas for the product, completely misinterpreted Lion’s muttered thoughts and eagerly doubled down on her architectural critique of the footwear.

‘Hmm.’

Despite the noisy distraction echoing in his mind, Lion kept his composure. Under normal circumstances, he would have jumped right into the banter with Tiamatrak.

Miracles. Seeing and hearing things. The more miracles overlap, the deeper one gets pulled into God’s grand design of inevitability. This sounded uncomfortably familiar. Specifically, it mapped directly onto the concept of ‘Story Mode.’

“This is getting genuinely troublesome…”